Crimson Sunset Blues
by Anya Mikato
Summary: Keep to the stars, cowboy. Keep to the stars...


(Author's Note: This is a new version of a previous story, so if you recognize it, you're right, you _have_ seen it before. Okay, that's it. Hope you enjoy...)

_Life._

_It's hard isn't it?_

_Well, no one said it was going to be easy._

_But hey, if you're ever down, just look up._

_At the stars._

_Nothing fancy's going to happen, but hey,_

_at least you know they'll always be there._

Crimson Sunset Blues 

by A. Mikato

            You know, there was a time when I thought I couldn't live without her.

            _Spike..._

            For the longest time, I believed that I needed her to survive. 

            _Spike..._

            Ever since I can remember, she was always there. And, I kept telling myself, that if she wasn't, there would be no more point in going on.

            _Spike..._

            I always thought that if I wasn't with her, that if I wasn't touching her, if I wasn't kissing her...I thought that if she wasn't in my life, I wouldn't be able to live anymore. I thought I was nothing without her.

            _Spike..._

But see, there was the problem. I kept thinking. I kept _thinking_. I kept thinking about this, kept thinking about that, when what I really needed to do was stop thinking...

            _Spike..._

            ...and start living. 

            "Spike!"

            "Huh?"

            "God damn it, you weren't even listening to me, were you?"

            I considered answering her, but couldn't decide which way to go. If I lied and said, yes, I was listening to her, she'd probably ask me what she was talking about just to make sure I was really listening, then proceed to go off on an angry tangent about how men never take the time to listen. And if I told her the truth and said, no, I wasn't listening to her, she'd...proceed to go off on an angry tangent about how men never take the time to listen. 

            Oh well. 

            When you're screwed either way, just smile, and hope for the best.

            "Spike, you can at least _pretend_ you're listening. Shit, I bet you're _still_ not listening! Damn it, that's just like you. Why can't men just take the time to listen for once?"

            Here she goes.

            "Take that smug little grin off your face, Spike, I know you're laughing at me inside that puny little head of yours."

            I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the cool coastal air enter my lungs. Jet had some business to take care of in good old Baja, California, which left me taking care of the Bebop. Unfortunately, this meant the Bebop and her crew, which meant-

            "You're so full of bullshit, Spike."

            Faye. Wonderful, beautiful, lovely Faye.

            "The view would be nicer if you weren't blocking it all," I said finally. She shot me a glare.

            "I never know what you're thinking anymore. Sometimes it's like you're not even here."

            I started to say something, but realized I had nothing to say. 

            "Do you have a smoke?" she asked, yawning as she stretched her arms out behind her.

            "I left them in the Bebop."

            "Shit," she said as she turned around to face the ship. "Don't you do anything right?"

            "What would be the fun in that?"

            "Give me the keys."

            I handed them to her and watched as she fumbled across the sand. She tripped once and looked back at me to make sure I didn't see it. But I had, and made every effort to let her know. However, I had to admit, it was hypnotizing, almost, how her hips swayed underneath the flow of her skirt.

            I looked back to the horizon. The sun was setting now, creating a picture of crimsons and oranges around the crystal blue ocean waves. I started to think of Julia, and how she always told me how much she wanted to live near the ocean some day.

I smiled at the thought of her smile. I could now. Unlike before.

            Her memory was no longer as painful as it used to be.

As I heard footsteps coming from behind me, I recognized the familiar scent of tobacco laced with perfume, and turned to her. The haze of the smoke from the cigarette pressed between her lips curled softly around her face. I looked at her blankly, wondering where the hell she got the nerve to take one of my cigarettes without being courteous enough to bring me one. Immediately I brought this to her attention.

            "I was going to," she said, taking a hit. 

            "But?"

            She exhaled. "This was your last one."

            I should have figured. "Do you ever think of anyone else besides yourself?"

            "What would be the fun in that?"

            I shook my head and sighed. She laughed, took another hit, and handed me the cigarette. 

            "See, I'm nice."

            I took the cigarette between my fingers. "Sometimes." I took a hit. A long, hard,one, letting the smoke linger in my mouth for a good while before letting it out.

            She yawned and took a few steps closer to the shore. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" A slight breeze developed, playing through the leaves of the palm trees. "You don't get sun sets like this every day."  She brushed a hand through her hair to keep it away from her face. Silence lingered for a while, nothing but the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, until she turned to me, her eyes ready to pounce.

            "I'm listening, I promise," I said, winking. 

            "Then what was I talking about?"

            "Aliens. And how you are one."

            She shook her head. "Fucking idiot."

            I laughed, and walked over to her, handing her the rest of my cigarette. "I'm joking."

            "It's hard to tell nowadays," she said, the smoke from the cigarette following the wind. Eagerly she accepted, took a hit, and folded her arms. 

            "What do you mean by that?"

            "I don't know." She looked down. "You've been really quiet lately."

            "Just have a lot to think about, that's all."

            She stood there, silent, letting the wind dance through her hair. I turned to the Bebop, and started to think of what repairs it would need before we left. If I calculated correctly, there'd be enough money to-

"Punch things."

            I turned to her. "What?"

            She took another hit, and glanced at the cigarette stub. There was one more hit left. She offered it to me, I declined. She shrugged, finished off the cigarette, and threw it into the sand. "Sometimes I have feelings that either I don't want to explain, or I can't explain." She stepped on the stub and pressed her heel into the sand. "So I just punch things. Then I feel better." She looked up at me, and smiled. I smiled back.

            "Can I punch _you_?"

            She rolled her eyes. 

            I found my gaze making its way onto the sun once again. It was now halfway into the water, its reflection in the water creating the illusion of a full circle.

            "It makes sense, doesn't it?" I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets.

            "What does?"

            "That so many civilizations considered the sun as the center of the universe."

            "I suppose so."

            "I wonder what it's like. To think that."

            "It's just like you to want to know everything."

            I shrugged. "I guess it is."

            Silence. Once again. But a good silence. Any kind of silence concerning Faye is a good silence.

            "Spike?"

            "Hm?"

            "What's the center of _your_ universe?"

            I turned to her, just for a moment, then looked back out at the sunset. "I don't know." I took a deep breath, then exhaled. Slowly. "Perhaps I'll never know."

            She shook her head. "You'll know," she said softly. "Who knows, maybe you've found it already."

            We both just stood there for a while, not saying anything, just watching the sun sink deeper and deeper into the ocean. 

            As the wind began to pick up its pace, she sighed, and rubbed her shoulders. "It's getting cold," she said, heading back for the Bebop. 

            "You got the keys?"

            "Yeah." She took a few steps towards the ship. "Where do you guys keep the Bourbon again? I keep forgetting."

            "In Jet's bonsai room. The first cabinet to your left."

            "You coming?"

            "In a minute."

I watched as the last remnant of the sun sank into the sea before making my way into the Bebop. The stars were on their way out now, ready to shatter through the night sky. I walked inside the ship and closed the door behind me, a sudden urge for a shot or two of Bourbon itching in my stomach. Before I joined Faye in the bonsai room, I stopped in front of the nearest wall. I made a fist, and punched it. Just like that.

"Spike?!"

It hurt like hell, but she was right. 

"Nothing to worry about," I called out, rubbing my knuckles. "Pour me a glass. I'm going to need one."

_KEEP TO THE STARS, COWBOY..._


End file.
